


Healing Touch

by Evondahlkilledthelocals



Series: The Bond Verse [2]
Category: Inception (2010), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Domestic, M/M, The Bond Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evondahlkilledthelocals/pseuds/Evondahlkilledthelocals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn returns home with a few cuts that need stitching</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing Touch

“Quinn, honestly, has Papa taught you anything?” Eames tutted at the young man sitting in front of him, dabbing at the gash in his forehead with a wet cloth. Eames was far older than the man in front of him, nearing what he referred to as a fresh and youthful fifty-three. The younger man, Quinn, could not have been more than twenty-four however. Eames still had a distinct talent for treating wounds, after his years of illegal work with Dreams and such. He still handled it proudly and with ease, even though he had retired twenty-five years before. “What would he say if he saw this?”  
  
Quinn eyed Eames to assess if he was being serious for a moment before straightening up, clearing his throat before he sarcastically drawled out, “Now Quinn, your father and I are not pleased with this situation. C’est…C’est stupide et téméraire!”  
  
Eames snorted at the inclusion of French, shaking his head, “Your Papa is really something, isn’t he?”  
  
He noticed Quinn glance up, a mischievous twinkle in his eye not unlike one Eames would have had at his age, “Papa isn’t that special…”  
  
He added a distinctly British drawl to his normally French-accented Papa, making Eames laugh deeply. At the sound of another laugh, Eames glanced over his shoulder to where the man in question stood. Quinn cleared his throat, bring the attention back to him as he gave Eames and his Papa a sheepish smile, “I really am sorry but James needs my assistance…”  
  
“Quinn…” Papa’s voice came from behind Eames, gravely with it’s traces of sleep still there and an underlying longing. Eames glanced back and shot him a warning look before turning to face Quinn again, “Q, your Papa and I miss you dearly. Come visit one in a while, hmmm?”  
  
“When James vacations again, I promise,” Quinn stood up, prompting Eames to do so as well. He opened his arms, drawing Quinn into them with a sad smile, “You look and sound just like your Papa, Notre bien-aimé.”  
  
Quinn blushed as he wiggled out of Eames’ grasp, smiling up at him shyly as he grabbed his satchel, “Thank you, Father.”  
  
Eames turned to watch as Quinn quickly moved over to his Papa, hugging him tightly and murmuring soft reassurances like Eames once had done so long before. He smiled longingly at the image in front of him, wishing for more time with his son. Quinn gave them both one last wave before moving out of the room to show himself out of his childhood home. Eames took a seat on Quinn’s bed with a heavy sigh, placing his head in his hands as he did. The room was unchanged, still the same blue and grey it had been since Quinn was sixteen, and it comforted Eames in a way.  
  
He felt the bed dip next to him, letting a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding go as he felt a familiar pair of arms encircle his waist. He leaned into the touch, sighing once more as he pressed a kiss to the man next to him’s temple, “Darling, were we good parents?”  
  
“Only the best Mister Eames.”  
  
“Arthur, dear, you know you can call me by my full name now. We’ve been married over twenty-seven years now and together almost thirty.”  
  
“I know,” Arthur’s deep voice still sent a shiver down his spine, as did the way Arthur practically purred his name, “But I like to save William for when we are in our bedroom since I am the only person that actually knows it. It’s like it is our secret and ours alone.”  
  
“Mmm love,” Eames smiled, nuzzling his nose against Arthur’s neck, “S’odd he went into spy work, innit? Since that was essentially our field so long ago.”  
  
“It’s like staring into the looking glass.”  
  
“Proud though, yeah? That we had him surrogated with your lovelies…”  
  
Arthur snorted at Eames’ phrasing, shaking his head with a longing sigh, “Only the proudest.”  
  
“I love you, Darling.”  
  
“You as well, William…”


End file.
